


Clara's Ghost

by Gypsygirl1000



Series: Clara's Ghost [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action & Romance, Angels, Attempted Suicide, Comedy, Demons, Drama, Family, Hell, Horror, LGBTQ Character, Mild Gore, Monsters, Multi, Not Beta Read, Please read, everyone is a BAMF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 21:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16291832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gypsygirl1000/pseuds/Gypsygirl1000
Summary: There Are three things you should know before reading.One; there is no such thing as love at first sight.Two; not all love stories are about two people falling in love.And third; never underestimate someone that is willing to kill themselves to get to their goals.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story might offend some people and if that is the case then it was not my intention. If you have any complaints please do keep them to yourself and go find a story that doesn't offend you. If you have any ideas on tags I should put on the story then you are more then welcome to share.  
> This story belongs to me and I have already posted it on Wattpad if you wish to look at it there.
> 
> A warning before you read, it might be a long while between update.
> 
> Please enjoy, like and subscribe.
> 
> From the Faboulse  
> Gypsy Witch

I learned three things during this madness.

One; there is no such thing as love at first sight. I would have disagreed with this at the start, but now I know that it is true because I realized what I felt at first was just the beginning of a crush (or Stockholm syndrome, depending on how you view this). You'll find out more on this later.

Two; not all love stories are about two people falling in love. Yes, this story does contain two people falling in love but I must tell you that there are many types of love in the world. Trust me on this, I have seen it and have been constantly reminded.

And third; never, ever, ever underestimate someone who is willing to kill themselves to get to their goals.

I also should mention that this is not my story. I'm just the unlucky bastard that got pulled into this mess.

All this happened because one girl stole my heart.

No, seriously she stole my heart, I want it back.


	2. Chapter 1: Tea house

Like all good stories, we have to start somewhere. A good place to start would be the beginning. Sadly I can't because it would just take out all the fun of telling the story (and it would take forever to tell), but I have to start somewhere.

So our story begins in a tea and coffee café on the corner of a street. Next to the café was a florist, and across from it was another café. The two owners were always trying to outdo each other and arguing. Many times you would see them in the middle of the street yelling their heads off at each other.

If you were to ask the people who lived close by which was their favorite they would most likely to shrug and say both. The person, who this story is about, is the only person who would say that the Tea House is their favorite, mostly because she claims that it's the only café that makes her tea just right. The reason I think is that she's British.

If you happen to go to the café between the times of eight am to ten am you would most likely spot her in the next to the window that looks onto the street.

It just so happened that one day someone sat down with her. She was sitting in her spot reading a book. If you were to look at it you would probably think it was written in a different language, like a mixture of letters and hieroglyphics.

She nodded to the person who delivered the tea but didn't remove her eyes from the book. A minute later the bell on the door chimed and someone walked over and sat down.

"What a surprise! Didn't expect to see you here" the man said smiling.

He was handsome with sandy brown hair and light stubble. He was the type of man that would have a hoard of girls drooling over him but would be completely oblivious to it. His clothes looked like everyday clothes but still screamed filthy rich.

The women glared at him in displeasure at her reading being disturbed.

"You know perfectly well that I come here every day so just cut to the chase please" she replied returning to her book.

"Do I need a reason to come visit you?" his voice was charming and so was his smile.

The women didn't even look up "Well then if there is no reason for you to be here then you should, what was that word again? Oh yes..." she looked up at him, eyes sharp "fuck off".

The smile on his face vanished and turned serious. "I just wanted to check to see if you were ok"

"Well as you can see I am perfectly fine"

"No, you're not"

"Yes I am"

"You can't-fool me' I've known you for too long"

"I am serious Gabriel, I am fine"

"That's what you said last time and we all know how that worked out"

If it was possible her eyes became as sharp as knives.

"Look" his voice was gentile "I get it, you're still upset but it happened fifteen years ago. It's time for you to face your demons and..."

He was suddenly cut off by a loud bang.

Everyone looked over to the door of the kitchen to see a man in his mid-forties strut out angrily.

"That is it, the bastard is going to get it!" he yelled. Once he was out the door everyone went back to what they were doing like nothing happened.

"He's early today" her voice was calm like she was talking about the weather "something must have really pissed him off"

"So... as was saying about your demons..." he said turning to face her.

She snapped her book and let out a cruel laugh. "Your one to talk about facing demons please do tell," she cruelly smiled "have you told your father yet?"

A look fell over his face. If I had to describe it to you it would look like a cross between anger and guilt, but the one the one emotion that stood out was fear.

In the background, you could hear too very strong English and Texan accents yelling abuse to each other, and the business of the café.

"Now that's uncalled for and you know it" his voice tight. "Plus my situation is a lot worse than yours"

"How so?"

"You know how it is, I could lose my job, my status, I could be disinherited and stripped of all my power, no big deal" it sounded like it was.

She didn't look convinced.

Sighing heavily "What you would lose would be gained back in time. What I have lost on the other hand will never be returned unless I go to where they are" she looked in her teacup with a far off look "Even if I have to use extreme lengths to get there"

"What you've done so far is pretty extreme" he muttered.

She ignored him "and besides I think Lu would gladly take you in if that were to happen"

Gab scoffed "Yeah that's all I need, my disappointment of a brother taking me under his wing"

"I thought you two where best buds"

"We are but it would just make me look even more pathetic if I came crawling to him for help"

She thought about it for a second before nodding in agreement "I guess your right" chugged down the rest of her tea and stood up. "Well, I've got somewhere to be so goodbye" and began to walk away.

"Clara" she stopped "please just.... just don't do anything stupid... please"

She didn't turn around but just kept on walking to the door and out.

A waitress took her chance and walked over with a flirtatious smile.

"Can I get you anything?"

He didn't even notice her and got up and left.


	3. Chapter 2: On the edge

About three minutes from the café was an apartment building. Most people would say that the people living there are strange and kept a lot to themselves.

"It's like they're hiding something" I overheard one day "something that only the people who live there know about"

I wish I had paid more attention to what the person said, for I would have been more prepared for what was to happen.

Clara lived in on the fifth floor. If you entered her apartment you would walk into a three bedroom unit with a decent size lounge, a kitchen, and one bathroom. The first room you would enter would be the lounge. It was decorated with old furniture and old antiques that looked 200 to 500 years old. There were no pictures except for one that sat on a desk in the corner of the room. The two bedroom doors were closed.

She walked straight to her desk and grabbed her keys. Before leaving she looked at the photo with a sad smile.

Leaving the flat, she walked straight to the car park. Anyone she passed gave her a sour look. They know what she was going to do but didn't stop her.

The car she jumped into was old, and semi-reliable and wasn't an eyesore. She drove out and kept on driving.

She drove past the city and didn't stop until she reached the coast. It was beautiful with its clear water and cliff a fantastic view.

Clara parked her car at the base of the hill leading to the top of the cliff and got out. She made sure that the keys were tightly fastened to her belt and began to walk. There was no one there to stop her.

She took her time as she walked. She looked all around, scanning everything, memorizing every sound, smell, even how everything looked.

There was nothing special about the top of the cliff. Only grass and large rocks here and there, the only thing worthwhile was the view.

She stood near the edge, just looking. At this point, I would imagine that she was thinking of what happened fifteen years ago, of what she lost.

At the start of this story, I said to never underestimate someone who is willing to kill themselves to get to their goals. Clara Stone is this person.

She fell.

The wind roared in her ears as she plummeted to the rocky water below. The sound of water crashing on the rocks got louder the closer she got.

There were only seconds left when she finally closed her eyes.

There was only darkness.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Clara bolted awake.

She hacked up salt water, her lungs, and throat burning. A string of curses fell out of her mouth as the pain shot through her like lightning bolt. She knew everything was all in its place but it still felt like everything was broken.

Looking around, she took note that she was lying on the sand only one or two miles from the cliff, the sun was halfway set.

And there was sand everywhere.

A growl of frustration left her. She began to slowly get up but it provides to be a difficult task to do. She finally did, only to face plant into the sand.

The growl was louder this time.

She pulled her head up and froze when she saw it.

When I say 'it' I actually mean 'him' but she would never give him (sorry it) the satisfaction of making it think it is at least a bit human.

The look of shock quickly faded and turned into a look of pure hatred. With a sudden surge of energy, she jumped up. Her bones ridged with anger and her throat tight.

Despite this, she was still able to yell.

"You fucking bastard!!" her body began to shake.

I offend wounded what I would do when I finally meet him. Beg for mercy; greet him like an old friend? You never know.

After all, it's not every day you meet Death himself.

"Why?" the words tore out of her throat "Why won't you let me die?!"

He didn't move or give any indication that he heard.

She blinked and he was gone.

Her strength followed and she collapsed. She didn't move until the sun was completely set and the stars were all out.


	4. Chapter 3: Black Ink

The drive back was, too my knowledge, extremely unpleasant.

Not only was she soaking wet, but there was also (as I had mentioned before) sand everywhere. To make matters worse the car decided to break down halfway back (but miraculously started working again when she threatened to take it to the junkyard).

By the time she got home, she was well and truly Pissed Off (note the capital letters ladies and gents).

When she arrived back it was nearly midnight and the only thing she could think about was having a hot shower. Sadly she would haft to wait.

She opened the door only to find Gabriel leaning against the back of the softer facing her.

"Well don't you look gorgeous"

The door slammed shut. "Fuck you"

"I told you" he straightened up and took a step towards her "heck, I begged you not to do something stupid and what do you do? You go and throw yourself off a cliff" She walked right past him, not giving any sign that she heard. "Are you even listening to me?"

She turned around to him with a confused look. "Sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of me not giving a fuck"

"Is this a game to you?!"

"Yes. Now go, shoo" her hands doing the action "go pray somewhere"

"Clara please"

She rolled her eyes and walked to the fridge.

"For all mercy's sake you can't keep doing this" he stressed "This could destroy you"

She grabbed a beer and slammed the door "That's funny because by the way things are going it looks like I won't be able to"

"You know damn well that's not what I mean!"

A strong silence surrounded them; the only thing you could hear was the loud angry breathing from Gabriel (and the sound of a beer being opened).

He took a deep breath and he changed from angry to calm in a second.

"It's been fifteen years, you can't live like this"

She slammed her beer on the counter and pointed a finger at him "Now lesson here bird brain, you aren't my Guardian Angel so you don't have the right to tell me what I can and can't do"

"Actually I can"

"Excuse me?" She sneered. He reached into his long brown coat and took out a scroll. Rolling it out you could see writing panted in gold and at the bottom in large, black letters were Clara's name.

Her face twisted with rage. "You fucking bastard" she hissed.

His face was void of any emotion as he rolled the parchment and placed it back into his cote.

"This is for your own good Clara; this has gone on long enough and I will not just stand by and see you destroy yourself"

"Destroy me! Everything I was died that day and you know it!"

"Look, I understand that you are in pain but..."

"Understand?! You have no idea and will never understand the pain I have to live through every single day!"

"Clara I am trying to help..." He was cut short by force throwing to a wall and pinning him there.

Clara stood there with five inky black, shadows like tentacles sprouting from her back. Two of them were holding him against the wall. The other three had there razor sharp points pointing to his spleen, heart and right between his eyes. Her eyes were pools of darkness, and that darkness was leaking out like running ink.

This is not the thing that you should be impressed with. What you should be impressed with is the fact that Gab wasn't scared by this and didn't flinch once.

"There is nothing you can do to help me and you know that" her voice was quiet but was still tight with rage. "We never forget, we are forced to live through it every day, over and over again in here" pointing to her head "so don't you dare tell me that you understand because you never will"

She let go of him but her shadows remained tensed and ready to strike. "Now get out"

He walked out without a fuss.

She did not move for a very long time.

When she did the sun was beginning to rise.

She walked into the bathroom for a much-needed shower.


	5. Chapter 4: A Man Walks into a Bar

Run.

Get as far away as you can. Go and don't look back.

Go run, run get away.

CLARA RUN!!!

 

* * *

  
  


She bolted awake.

She was drenched in sweat and her heart was beating a mile a minute. It took only a few seconds for her to realize that the shadows had warped themselves around her. She didn't try to unwrap herself from them. Instead, she held them closer and tighter against her, as if they were a life raft and she was floating in the middle of the ocean.

She looked around the room as if to find any evidence that she was still dreaming. The room was bare apart from the cubit, a bedside table, and the bead itself. The walls were the color of off cream and the floor was a dark wood. The only thing that was really worth notes was the photo album on the bedside table.

I cannot tell you is she was pleased or disappointed to find that she was awake but I can tell you from experience that she was grumpy when she discovered this.

It was 1 in the afternoon  
  


She missed her bloody morning tea.  
  


* * *

She didn't dare try anything that day because she didn't want to deal with Gab or  _It_ , but it was mostly because she still felt like she had internal bleeding somewhere.

Fun fact about Deaths healing powers, you could be completely fine inside and out but the pain remains for a while. Last time it lasted almost a week, Clara had a feeling this one would break that record.

So for the rest of the day, she stayed home until eight. In that time she managed to clean the entire flat twice. She would have done it a third time but there was only so many time you could polish a hardwood table before it started reflecting your face like a mirror. So she read a book.

By the time it came to eight she felt bored and caged in, so she grabbed her coat and left the building. She walked into the nearest alleyway, looking around to make sure that no one was following her.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax. Her body began to change. Darkness spread all over and she began to shrink. This continued for a minute and then stopped. Clara was gone and in her place stood a raven.

Said raven flapped its wings and took off into the sky. I just so happened to be walking back to my flat when it flew overhead. I didn't give much attention to it, only a parsing thought on what it might be like to fly.

I, for the second time, am kicking myself for not paying more attention to what was happening around me.

The raven kept on flying until it reached a shady part of town. It flew into another alleyway and the darkness surrounded it again. When the darkness fell away, Clara stood in its place. She continued down the alley until she got to the end.

She went up to the brick wall and knocked. A brick moved to the side to reveal two eyes.

"The password?" Its voice was deep.

"Lucifer sends greetings from hell," the eyes thought for a second before the brick slid back and a door opened. Behind it stood a man with four arms and eyes, his top arms crossed. He looked at her as if she was something nasty he just trod in. She ignored it and walked inside.

The bar inside was nothing special. The only thing really worth noting was the stage surrounding by a gate. At the moment a woman was dancing and singing inside and a group of men and a couple of women where all drooling and trying to grab her through the bars.

She rolled her eyes at them and walked to the bartender and sat in front of him. He sneered at her but gave her no other notices.

"I would like my usual" he couldn't ignore her then, so got her the drink and returned to polishing glasses.

"You know" his voice was filled with disused, "if it wasn't for the fact that you are so chummy with the owner I would have you kicked out"

"Oh, is that so?" she said it like you would say 'Do I look like I give a shit?'

"I don't want you filthy Necromancers stinking up the place" his face became even more ugly as he sneered "Would have been better for everyone if the man upstairs wiped you all out, it would have been a great favor"

"Lay off dickhead" a guy two seats down yelled. "She's not doing anything so why don't you bugger off"

"No one asked your fucking opinion"

"You might want to watch where you run your mouth" The man closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them again they were blood red. The bartender went rigid.

"I...I'm sorry I had no idea"

"Then you should think before you let your words fall out of that thick head of yours. After all, you don't want one of us complaining to the boss about how poor the staffing is, now do you?"

The bartender shook his head furiously. "NO!"

"Then bugger off" The bartender quickly scamped off.

Clara raised her glass to him and he nodded back.

Nothing happened in the next few minutes that followed, apart from the sneers she reserved from the bartender and others patrons. The only people that didn't where the people like the man two seats down and the people that were too busy tripping and drooling over themselves to get to the women on stage.

Then a man walked in. Everyone (except the people near the stage) stopped what they were doing and looked at him. He was normal. Normal hair, normal face, normal everything, but that was just it"

He was normal.

Or in other words human.

He walked to the bar and sat down a seat away from her. The bartender gave him a strange look but didn't complain.

"What do you want?" the man jumped. He gave off a skittish aura as he fiddled with his hands.

"Ju... Just a beer, thanks" the bartender got him the drink and went back to polishing the glasses.

Clara studied him. He looked to be in his mid-fifties with dark greying hair. He looked extremely out of place. Not because of the way he looked, but how he looked at the others in the room. The ones that were showing their true selves got stares of wonder and fascination, the ones that weren't got stares of curiosity. Not only that but he seemed to show great restraints against the woman dancing on stage.

He must be very devoted to his missis. That or he's gay.

He finally seemed to notice her staring. After staring at her for a minute he final uttered out a "What are you?"

She looked at him from under her nose "Clearly you have never used the Sight before. That or you don't have the strength to use it more than a few minutes a day"

"The Sight?"

"I was correct than" the man waited and she gave out an annoyed sigh. She allowed the darkness to leek from her eyes and tentacles to sprout from her back. They moved lazily, like a cat that who was angry but couldn't be bothered to do anything about it.

The man looked shocked. It surprised her. Those who see her true form usually gives her a look of disgust or horror. Well... except the people with red eyes.

"You're a Necromancer"

She sucked the darkness back in and gave the man a sneer "You know about Necromancers but have no clue what the Sight is, are you incompetent or are you taking the mickey?"

"No! It's nothing like that" the man exclaimed waving his arm around. "A guy said that a Necromancer might be able to help me with my problem and told me what they look like if I should run into one"

"I guess that he thought you knew what the Sight is"

There was a long purse "So can you help me?"

She looked at him "What's your name?"

"Robert" a grin spread across his face and he extended his hand "Robert Jones"

She didn't shake it, only stared at it with suspicion. Her eyes held a wariness that I would become familiar with. She looked back to his eyes.

"What is the thing you need help with?" her voice was firm, making it clear to him that she only wanted to know what it is and she was not going to help.

Yet.

Robert's smile diapered. He pulled his hand back and looked around nervously.

"We can't talk here, the topic is.... a sensitive one"

She raised an eyebrow, but got up none the less and walked to a deserted part of the room. The man followed behind.

They sat down at the end booth and with a wave of her hand the place became silent. Robert looked around in amazement, trying to locate any sound from the bar.

"What is this so-called 'sensitive topic' that you wish to discuss with me?" he snapped out of his wonder and looked back to her.

"Well, you see... I'm a professor at Columbia University. I'm the head of the Medieval and Renaissance Studies, so naturally, whenever we get a new piece related to that era it is given to me to study" he explained "This peace was.... strange to say the least. At first, I thought it was just an old storybook, but the way it was written. It was like an instruction manual. It wasn't until my friend revealed the truth to me that I realized that it was a spell book"

If she wasn't listening before she was now. "A spellbook?"

"Yes," his face lit up when he realized that he now had her full attention. "That's why I've been looking for you, there's this text that explains how to bring someone back to life" aaaaand he lost it again.

She let out an annoyed sigh and got up.

He grabbed her hand to stop her. "No, please just hear me out"

She gave him a sharp look "Since you are new to the magical community I'm going to give you a little slack, but remember this if you run into me again. We don't possess the powers of Death, nor do we have the power to bring a person back to life. Trust me on this I have tried" she ripped her hand out of his grip and turned away.

"But-"

She turned back, her face twisted with rage. "Look you twit, do I need to spell it out to you. I can't bring someone back from the dead. No Necromancer can. Now if you can excuse me"

"But that the thing, the book mentioned nothing on needing a Necromancer to bring them to life"

A look came over her face. No one would have noticed for it was only a slight change, and Clara had become the master of hiding her emotions. How I became a master at reading her I have no clue, If anyone has any ideas please do contact me.

It was hope, but only a little bit.

She sat back down. "Why do you need a Necromancer?"

"To collect the main ingredient"

"Why does it have to be a Necromancer?"

The man fiddled with his hands "It's not that a Necromancer has to be the one to get it, it's just that my friend believes that a Necromancer is better equipped to handling the tool you need to use to get it"

"What do you mean by that?"

He didn't say anything, only reached into his breast pocket to pull out a photo and handed it to her. "The book wasn't the only thing I reserved"

It was a dagger

The handle was grey and resembled a bone. The blade itself looked razor-sharp. The dagger felt wrong even though the photo.

It reeked of death.

"How is that possible?" she didn't even bother to hide her shock "This dagger can kill someone"

Robert laughed nervously "Isn't that the point of a weapon?"

"No, you don't understand. A weapon can injure someone but it's up to Death itself weaver or not the said injury kills them. This...." She pointed to the dagger "Can  _kill_ someone"

She looked at the dagger with a hidden wonder. This could solve all her problems.

But then it struck her. Her face turned to stone and she looked at him with hard eyes. "Why would you need this dagger to get the ingredient?" her voice held suspicion.

Robert looked down to his hands again "That's the sensitive topic I wished to deuces with you" he looked back at her with unease. "The ingredient is a heart, a human heart, killed by that dagger"

There was a long purse until Clara brock it by laughing. Robert jumped in his seat.

"You're kidding right?" he shook his head rapidly. Clara's face turned into a cold sneer and she leaned back into the seat. "A life for a life, why am I not surprised"

"That's not it. I read the book cover to cover and it said nothing like that. According to the book, you could bring back twenty or more people from just one heart"

There was another long purse. "So... you are asking me to kill someone"

"Well..." here gulped nervously "Yes"

Her face became void of any emotion. Robert started to ring his hands.

"I know this is a lot to ask of someone, but you don't have to answer right away" He pulled out a business card and handed it to her. "Call me once you made your decision, but do keep in mind that this could help a lot of people. Loved ones could be reunited with their families after being so cruelly taken away"

She gave the number a blank look and put it into her pocket.

"I will let you know" her voice was soft. With a wave of her hand, the noise of the bar returned. She got up and left.


	6. Chapter 5: Bad Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this chapter was so emotionally distressing for me to write I'm dedicating this chapter to my younger sister.
> 
> Renae; you're a bitch, and it is my sincere hope that you fall so hard on your arse that you realize what you've done because mom and dad don't deserve your shit, and I will sell my soul to anyone who manages to get it on tape.

For two weeks she didn't give her answer.

And for those two weeks, the nightmares got worse.

She was no stranger to nightmares. She had seen many things in her life that would give anyone nightmares (magical or not). But the dreams were all the same since the incident fifteen years ago. Always repeats of that day.

But something was different about the dreams that followed. They were still the same but they change, only slightly.

It took her only a week for her to try and kill herself again. Slitting her wrists, only to have them reseal themselves straight after woods. For three day she tried to clean the blood from the carpet.

Yes, the dreams had gotten worse but they didn't make her desperate enough to want to kill someone.

That was until the end of the second week.

 

* * *

 

 

The world around her was void of, well everything.

She wondered how she was standing up in the first places since there wasn't a floor beneath her. She looked around her frantically, trying to find something, anything. Any sign of something.

She would only ever admit this while intoxicated, but the void frightened her. There was nothing to ground her body or her mind. It unnerved her very deeply.

There was no time. She once told me that she felt trapped there for what felt like months, years even. But you know how dreams are, what feels like a lifetime could have only been seconds. The years, months or seconds didn't matter, it was still hell. And it would only get worse from here.

The emptiness felt unnatural and wrong, and the only thing on her mind was to try and find something in the nothingness. She turned around, she ran, she yelled, but there was nothing, until there was.

Turning around again she spotted something in the distance. Relief flooded through her and she ran toward it. When she got close enough to see the figure properly she froze. Her body turned to ice and felt like she was going to vomit.

The figure turned to face her.

It was a little girl. She couldn't be any older than six, so young and innocent. But her eyes were dead.

The gaping hole in her chest dribbled out blood, three of her ribs still in place, the other where ever missing or broken in half. Her arms, legs, and face were coved in scratchers and the once pretty light blue sleeping gown was now torn in places and stained red with blood. The teddy bear she clutched was slashed at the stomach, like an insult to its previous owner.

"You did this"

Clara shook her head, her voice tight with sorrow "No"

"But you could have done something!"

"There was nothing I could do, please"

"But you could of, you could have saved me but you didn't!"

"I tried, please believe me" She held back tears "I tried"

"Do you hate me?"

"What? NO!" she shook her head "I could never hate you Bella, never!"

"You do hate me!" the girl screamed, "If you loved me you would have saved me!"

"I love you; I love you so much, I would have done anything to save you" a tear fell from her eyes "Please"

"You hate me!"

"No" she fell to her knees "No, I love you Bella, I love you"

The girl walked towards her "Why didn't you save me! You could have saved me!"

"Please" she whimpered "Please Bella"

"You could have saved me!"

"Bella, please"

"You could have saved me!"

"Please"

"You could have saved me!"

The tears came flowing down.

"You could have saved me!"

"You could have saved me!"

"You could have saved me!"

"Bella, Please!"

"You could have saved me!"

"No, no, no, no, no...."

"You could have saved me!"

"Bella, no"

"You can save me!"

* * *

 

"BELLA!" she bolted awake.

It was dark.

The darkness has always given her a bit of confit over the years, but not this time. Not even the shadows that curled around her.

The shock in her system refused to acknowledge anything but the dream. Everything else was ignored. It could have been hours before she finally moved.

Something ran down her cheek and a shadow court it before it fell. A tear.

She looked at it in shock. She never knew she could cry anymore, not since that day. It seemed that she was wrong.

The tear dropped onto the bedding and she slowly got out. She didn't bother turning on the light when she walked into the lounge room. The shadows calmed themselves and moved lazily but Clara's mind refused.

You can save me!

She tried, she tried so hard. She fought tooth and nail, begged and screamed. There was no way.

Until now, the voice in her had wisped.

It took her only a minute to find her phone but she hesitated. Her eyes found themselves on the photo perched on the desk.

She called the number.

A sleepy voice answered. "This is Professor Jones speaking" he let out a loud yawn.

"It's Clara" she took the photo in hand "I'll do it"

"Thank you, thank you, I know this is such a big thing to ask-"

"Under one condition" she interrupted.

"W-what condition?"

Her eyes fell to the six-year-old in the photo. A huge, happy smile pasted on her unmarked face.

"I want you to bring back my family"


	7. Chapter 6: Something Stupid

And this ladies and gentlemen is where I come in.

You must understand that when she arrived at the apartment she decided that she wouldn't go on with this after all, but when she got there she never got the chance to tell him before he started to rat on about how thankful he was and then placed the dagger in her hands. All thoughts about telling him that she couldn't do, it vanished. All I can tell you is something had taken over her, controlled her. And with that, she chose her victim.

Me.

And now I finally introduce myself. My name is John Smith and yes that is my real name. You see I was abandoned as a baby at an orphanage and there was no birth certificate. Too worried about another mouth to feed they didn't give me a name until a week later when they realized that it might not look so good to the child protection services if they just kept calling me 'That Boy', so they gave me the first name they could think of. As you can imagine they weren't very nice people.

Luckily for me, I didn't have to spend all my life there because by the time I was eleven my (adopted) sister had turned eighteen. Giving the place one of the most epic 'Fuck you' I had ever seen she left, taking me with her.

It was tuff at first, I will admit, but thanks to my (very extreme) optimism and my special sixth sense we managed to get a flat with three bedrooms, a nice kitchen, and a lounge room. The bathroom was another matter initially but we made it work.

Everything was going great, that is until the asshole that was dating Cleo, my sister knocked her up. To make matters worse, when the dickhead found out he accused her of cheating, broke up with her and moved to Russia all within thirty hours.

Joke's on him though, because three days later we ended up winning five million dollars, (from a ticket that I may or may not have stolen from him). Thank you sixth sense.

But that's just getting off the track a bit. Despite having so much money we still kept the apartment and I still kept my job. The only change really was Cleo quitting hers to look after the baby and getting that nightmare of a bathroom fixed.

It was the day that I was finally contemplated on quitting that this all began for me.

I worked in a call center, and as you can imagine it was mind-numbingly boring. Why I was still working there remained a mystery. For god's sake, I'm twenty-one with two and a half mil in the bank; I should be partying, not answering phones.

Despite my bad day at work my extreme optimism refused to let me feel down. It is the one thing I hate about besides my white blond hair (or The Elsa hair as my sister dubs it). It never lets me have a bad day. Today for example, after have one of the worst days at work and then getting splashed but five cars I still continued walking home with a stupid grin on my face.

So here's me, dripping wet with Mr stupid stupid grin. It was then that my sixth sense decided to hit me.

It usually starts with a headache then images flash through my mind. In this one I saw an alleyway, the alleyway I use as a shortcut home. I saw myself being pushed to the wall and a glimpse of what looked like a knife. That was it.

'OK, defiantly don't want to be mugged today' It was that thought that that took me to the course to adventure, mystery and moments that wouldn't be out of place in a horror movie. I took the long root home.

I continued walking for a while until I heard footsteps behind me. I looked over my shoulder to get a peek at who was following. It was two people, a man, and a woman. From the peek I got I noticed that the man had a hood on, making it hard for me to make out his face. The woman, on the other hand, had no hood on and her face and her hair that went below the shoulders were on full display. Her bangs were grey, the type you would get from age or for extreme trauma. Going by how young she looked, my guess was that it was from trauma. The grey bangs gave a huge contrast to the rest of her jet black hair.

I didn't want to make assumptions but I believed that they were following me. To test the theory I turned into an alleyway. They walk right by, but the women stopped for a minute to look at me. Her partner called to her. She gave me a smile and began to walk away.

I stayed standing in the middle of the alleyway for a minute.

That was my mistake.

The sharp pain of my back colliding with the brick wall traveled to the tips of my finger and to my head. My eye's met dark blue ones.

They were beautiful

Her eye's where sharp looking full of grace, and rage and sadness and so many other things I could use to describe them but I don't have the words. I took a look at the rest of her face and then looked back to her eyes. For a second they turned off milk white before going back to their original color. Then she spoke.

"I'm sorry"

A sharp pain bloomed in my chest and the world went dark.

And so I died.

 

* * *

 

 

It was not uncommon to see a stray dog in this part of the city. So when a wolf-like animal carrying a small esky running through the streets, no one commented.

The wolf ran until it arrived at an apartment complex and entered. The building had seen better days if the interior and exterior had anything to say. The wolf continued up the staircase and stopped at the third floors second door.

Shadows began to surround it. It grows in size and its body began to change. When the shadows cleared in its place stood Clara. She knocked on the door.

Robert opened the door in a flourish.

"Clara!" She only held up the esky in reply and Robert glanced at it "Quickly, come in"

She walked in and placed the esky on the nearby table. The place was a small studio apartment that was in need of a renovation.

Robert closed the door and move towards the table. "May I?" he asked pointing to the esky. She nodded and stood back. He opened the lid and took a peak but slammed it shut fast. He swallowed and recomposed himself before turning back to Clara "Thank you for this, I can im-"

"No you can't" She interrupted "What I just accomplished goes against every natural law in existence, and this..." she slammed the dagger onto the table "Whatever this thing is, its...... monasteries" She took a deep breath "You better hope this works the first time because I will not do it again"

"But don't you want your family back?"

Black veins started to appear in her eyes as she snapped her head towards him. "Don't you fucking dare, there is nothing more important to a Necromancer then their family, we would do anything for them, we would gladly kill ourselves just to be with them"

He jumped a bit but quickly consoled himself "Sor-sorry, I didn't mean to offend"

"Another thing to keep in mind if you are to meet another necromancer, never question their loyalty to their family" He nodded his head in frighten agreement.

At that point, something court his eye behind her. He looked terrified for a second and extremely apologetic as he looks to her face "I'm sorry"

Clara didn't have enough time to look behind her before the world became dark. The only glimpse she got of the person behind her was the color of off milk white.

 

* * *

 

 

Clara woke up with a splitting headache. This was not an unusual occurrence for her and for a second she thought nothing out of the ordinary. That was until she opened her eyes. The room around her was not one she recognized as her own and it took only a moment for the full force of what happened to hit her.

I cannot tell you exactly what happened at this point because even Clara doesn't remember (and this is something that doesn't happen often as you will find out). Whatever happened though lead her back to her apartment when she finally regained some conciseness.

That is when she let out all her emotion. She screamed, yelled, kicked and smashed whatever got in her path. It ended when she heard the smash of glass caused by her throwing the object against the wall.

She ignored the chaos around her as she slowly walked towards the object on the ground. She knelt beside the broken picture frame. The broken glass magnified and distorted the faces. She gently slipped the photo out and held it as if it would turn to dust with the slightest of movement. She sat there staring at it for god knows how long before the front door opened.

"Clara are yo.." Gabriel stopped his speech when he took in the sight of the room, "Clara what happened?"

She gave no answer.

He walked towards her and crouched down beside her. "Clara?"

"Gab" she slowly turned her head towards him with a sad smile on her face "I've done something stupid"


End file.
